My Dear Child
by Olliephantomhive2461
Summary: Sad one-shot set in Mai and Naru's future about the child they adopted. tw: death
So this is a little apology one-shot for never updating my old fanfictions. Idk what will happen with them. Harsh critique/tips/reviews are greatly appreciated because I am trying to improve.

Disclaimer: I do not own ghost hunt characters.

Prompt based on "Stay Alive-reprise" by Lin-Manuel Miranda from the soundtrack of the musical hamilton

His dress shoes banged erratically against the tile flooring. Breath ragged and panicked he grabbed the nearest nurse by the arm.

"Where is he? Where is my son?!"

"S-Sir please. We are doing everything we can so please just stay calm."

"Not unti—

"Thats enough. Oliver." The older man quickly caught up to him pried his hands off the young nurse. Placing a hand on his former charges shoulder he directed him to the stiff waiting chairs. That was when the doctor walked in. There was nothing he could do to prevent his companion's immediate focus towards doorway.

"Doctor, how is my son?" While the tone his voice carried declined in furocity, the glare in his bright eyes spoke otherwise.

"Sir, we are doing everything we can. He was brought in half an hour ago by a pedestrian. He was found in an alleyway off the corner of main-street. Now, while he lost a lot of blood—

"Doctor." His fists clenched by his sides. She battled

"-We have little probability he will make it through the night. I'm sorry." That doctor looked down and held the clipboard to her chest.

 _No no no no_ …. _ **Oh god please no.**_

All he could do was stare and blink at the bare walls around him. His knees had scarcely shook because both feet remained firmly planted on the floor. His hands, that were hanging desperately by his side began to stiffen into fists.

The more he stood in a frozen state the more the feeling the in his chest seemed to clog up and over flow around him. There nothing he could do to ease the pain, so he lashed out. In an abrupt move his single fist collided with the left wall.

Lib grappled with pulling him away from the now dented wall. The sting of his bloody knuckles was nothing compared to the overwhelming urge to vomit.

"Not again...no please...not again." His deflated form shook as he pressed his body against the wall to maintain focus, his head bent in hands.

He knew he should have never left him alone.

His voice had cracked and his throat struggled to contain his agony as he pressed for more information. The doctor had been drowned in the buzzing of his ears and Lin could only watch as Naru's form reverted into itself.

His shoulder caved in to his neck and his fingers grasped at the cloth of his deep dress coat. Face weary, he hadn't let her finish talking. His son was more important. "Take me to him."

His cold fingertips buzzed with the electricity and pain trying desperately to escape his pounding chest. His eyes were no longer bright with panic, but dull and swimming in darkness.

The empty eyes of a broken man. A father. A widower.

His footsteps sped up as the doctor stopped in front of a door and Naru had pushed open the doors before the doctor had the chance. His feet carried him running to to the bedside.

"Father!"

"Mokoto."

The boy's lips trembled and streams of salty tears continued to slid down his face. His father carried his small face in his hands.

"I did exactly as you said father."

"Shh..Shh I know. Save your strength." He had knelt down to the bed level and pressed his forehead against his son's. The warmth of his ragged breaths had calmed him down. "You are a smart boy, remember? Mai would be so proud." He fought back the tremble of his own lips and inhaled a shaky breath. He held the boy's quivering hand in his.

"Before I finished counting to ten I was aiming for the sky. I was aiming for the sky." His weeping grew into sobs of fear.

He too was tempted to unleash his fear. The memories of the case that brought them Mokoto and the next that took his wife away. Mai had been helpless under the orphaned psychic's goofy smiles and him under hers as she begged to take the boy home, and they did.

She died five months later.

Makoto shifted in his hospital heet to meet his father's eyes. "Father, I'm going to die aren't I? I don't want to die, not yet! We have to much left to do. I was going to become the best in the world just like...just like you and okaasan. Saving people, hunting things with everyone, and I haven't perfected how to me okaasan tea either."

His frantic rambles were cut short by the nurses gathering in the corner of the room. Heads low and eye glazed they watched the scene unfold.

His father just kept his quivering hands over the boy's head and shoulders. "I know Makoto, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Burying his head into the crook of Makoto's neck he held him close to his chest.

He was too young to suffer this. He should be outside running around or playing with his friends in school playgrounds and living carelessly.

He couldn't stop the feelings of regret creeping into gut. He should've kept him safe. Maybe training him to control his powers everyday instead of trigonometry or ghost hunting would have kept him alive for longer. Heck, he should've kept him away like Mai wanted. Then, none of this would have happened. He pulled away and looked towards the flashing red monitor lights.

He should have done what was best for them both.

"Otousan. Don't be sad, please." He felt himself slipping away as he laid his head loosely against the pillow. Even though the room was cold he felt warmth in his father's embrace. His little hand draped over the bloody cuts on his father's hands.

"I'll be with okaasan and we will still be with you in here," he pointed to his father's heart and smiled, "I don't regret anything. Meeting you and okaasan and becoming your family was the best-ist." His voice scratched against his throat as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

" _Je t'aime_."

His smile pierced the man's heart in ways the scientist had found unfathomable. It was the glimmering glow of Mai and the child they had fallen in love with. Everything from his quirk with words to his cheesy lines reminded him of her.

The french was his personal touch.

If only he could turn back time. His lips bent up into a ragged smile and he let the tears fall freely from his own face.

" _Je t'aime..._ goodbye, my son."

And the stale beep carried his screams through the night.


End file.
